Transatlanticism
by the crow god
Summary: When Percy, a young earl, is captured by the notorious pirate, the Fair Lady, he starts to rue his luck. Somehow, he must survive being held captor by a female crew of pirates that despise him, even if their captain is a little easy on the eyes. Just what is the Fair Lady after, and what is going to happen to Percy? — Pirate AU
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

There were loud cries coming from the deck, which roused Percy from his uneasy slumber. Getting his bearings, he staggered out of his quarters and up the stairs into the brightness of the Caribbean sun. All around the deck, English navy crewmen ran around, manning cannons and loading flintlock rifles.

Percy found himself surrounded in a chaotic, frenzied activity that left him utterly bewildered. He searched for signs of the captain, a tall, gaunt man that was a little to keen to employ corporal punishment even for minor infringements. He spotted him standing by the helmsman, using his telescope and scanning the horizon with a blanched complexion.

"Captain! What's happening?" Percy demanded, racing up the stairs to the poopdeck where he stood.

The captain gave him a glance before straightening. "A ship's been spotted off the Starboard bow, my lord," he said.

"And?" Percy asked, feeling a knot of dread forming in the pit of his stomach.

At this, the captain turned completely towards him, smiling a wry, worried smile. "It's not flying the Union Jack," he said.

"Spaniards?" Percy whispered, taking the telescope from the captain's clammy hands.

Percy saw the captain shake his head no through his peripheral vision, and he felt his heart sink like a stone into his stomach. "Not this far down, my lord. No one sails this far — tis a fool's errand. We're only here on account of your request," the captain said, licking his lips and wringing his hands.

Through the telescope, Percy confirmed that there was a solitary ship coming from the right of their vessel. He could make out the faint disturbance of a flag fluttering in the wind, and he could easily tell that it wasn't a friendly vessel. It was moving alarming fast, much faster than a ship should. The ship was sleek, unlike the clunkier vessels that the British used. It was no trading ship, but it also didn't look big enough to be a military vessel. In his schooling, Percy vaguely remembered it was a chebec, but this one appeared to be modified.

"Pirates," Percy spat, reaching for his pistol while also returning the captain's telescope. The captain nodded before turning towards the crew, who were all still rushing about the deck, but they stopped once the captain bellowed: "Listen, you scoundrels! You are men of the King's navy, and we'll be damned if we'll allow ourselves to be captured by some inbred corsairs that can't tell a mizzen mast from a spanker tail! They will reach us soon, but we will fight, and we shall win! Remember that the young Lord Jackson is onboard with us, so keep him safe, or I'll have your heads. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" the crew shouted.

The captain turned to Percy once more, satisfied. "We can handle them, my lord. This isn't the first time we've had a run in with cur like them," he said.

Percy gave him a terse nod. "I'm impressed with your command over your men, and I do not doubt your aptitude as a captain. Just make sure this ends quickly," he said.

As he made his way below the deck, he noticed that the enemy ship would descend upon them in a matter of minutes. It was almost eerie how stealthy the boat was, and he couldn't shake an ill feeling that began to swell inside his heart. Shaking his head, he continued on below and hoped that all would go well.

~oOo~

Percy paced restlessly below the deck, anxiously awaiting the sound of gunfire and cannons, but nothing came. Then he heard a loud voice shouting from the other ship. Curiosity got the better of him, and he poked his head from behind the railing and listened.

He started when he heard a strong female voice. "Greetings, men of the British navy! My captain, the Fair Lady, wishes you no harm. We shall allow you to pass without bloodshed. All we desire in return is to inspect your cargo and take a little tax, as it were."

Percy caught a glimpse of a girl around his age with flaming red hair issuing the challenge. The captain bellowed back his response. "You shall have none of our cargo, and if you choose to attack, we will respond in kind. I command over five hundred men, and I am captain of an English Man-of-War. You will not prevail, so it would be wise to let us pass, unhindered. Do not test my patience," he spat.

The girlish giggle she gave surprised him in the context of the situation. Percy thought he saw her shrug and grin, but he couldn't be sure given the distance. "Have it your way!" she chirped before bounding off to safety.

The captain turned back with a worried expression. Percy could hear the chilled whispers coming from the other men about what the girl said, and the moniker "Fair Lady" came up repeatedly. Percy racked his memory for any mention of a pirate by the name of the Fair Lady, but he could not recall anything. Something told him this was more dangerous than he had initially expected.

He stepped onto the deck and decided to look around. There was maybe a hundred feet separating the two ships. Seeing them side-by-side, Percy found it almost comical how their ship dwarfed the other. He felt more confident noticing this than before. Surely a ship that small would not be able to do much damage, if any, at all to their massive ship. He felt much better and decided to trust in the captain, as he had said.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Through his months voyaging on the _Stratford_, he had never seen the crewmen get rattled by anything. Even in the midst of terrifying storms that put the fear of god in him, they went on undeterred. However, something about the mention of the "Fair Lady" had perturbed them.

"Samson," Percy said, grabbing the shoulder of one of the crewmen he'd been acquainted with over the past few months. The sailor in question hastily wiped the panicked look from his face and respectfully nodded to Percy.

"My lord?" he asked.

"What or who is the 'Fair Lady'?" Percy asked.

Samson's eyes darted to the side in brief panic. "Ah, I'm not all that sure really-" he stuttered.

"Samson," Percy said sternly.

"Oh, alright! Mind you, these are only whispers. There have been rumors of a gang of pirates patrolling deep in the Caribbean where most sailors and merchants dare not go. It's said that their captain is a lady, the Fair Lady, and that she's robbed more ships than any other pirate in the last half century. English ships, Spanish ships, French ships - they're all the same to her. All sailors know that if you ever see her, her ship, or her crew, you'd best pray because you probably won't be alive for much longer," he said, speaking quickly and uneasily.

"Samson!" the captain roared. "Stop gossiping and man your posts. I want that bounty!"

"Bounty?" Percy asked.

"Aye," the captain nodded, "the Fair Lady has got a hefty bounty on her head, she does. The King has made it known that he'll handsomely reward anyone who captures her, dead or alive."

"What're we dealing with here?" Percy asked.

The captain huffed in annoyance. "I don't know! No one's ever lived to tell tale of her before. We don't have any intel. Alls I know is that the ships she's taken before weren't as large as ours here. Most were merchant ships with one or two guards, and the few military vessels she's taken haven't been that large. This ship here though is armed to the teeth, and all my men have proven themselves in battle. As good as she is, we can simply outnumber her," he said.

The captain's confidence reassured him, but as he opened his mouth to speak, the ship shuddered. Percy and the captain struggled to maintain their balance.

"We've been hit!" a cry arose.

"Blast!" the captain cursed. "Man your stations and fire upon them. Sink them to the briny deep, you lily-livered scalawags!"

Cries of anger and indignation arose, and men began to light their cannons. Just then, the enemy vessel fired several rounds, artfully aiming at their cannons with almost impossible precision. Percy watched on in horror as the cannons on his ship splintered into thousands of pieces, sending shrapnel into the soft bodies of the men nearby who hadn't perished in the initial blast.

Then several feminine cries started from behind them. Percy turned in time to see Samson fall to his knees after having his throat cut open by a tall, savage looking girl with ruddy brown hair. She snarled and made towards him before another crewman engaged her.

Percy was baffled. How had they made it on their ship? Then he saw the hooks attached to the other side of the ship, where almost all the crew had their backs turned towards. The cannon fire was simply a diversion to allow the enemy crewmen to make it aboard unharmed and unnoticed. They must have swam while the cannons were sounding.

All this dawned on Percy as he swore and brandished his pistol and rapier. There were maybe twenty to thirty girls that had climbed aboard, but they fought unlike anything he had ever seen. They danced like sprites between the men, killing whenever they struck. They were so fast and quick that most didn't have time to react.

Percy clenched his jaw, aimed at a girl running towards a crewman, and shot her in the back. She collapsed, but then another girl took her place. There were more than thirty, Percy realized. More and more of them were climbing up every second. With their battle prowess, Percy knew his crew would be immobilized in a few short seconds.

He sprinted towards the side of the ship and tried to pry off the hooks to stop the enemy's advancement. Try as he might, he was unable to remove the hooks from their sturdy place in the wood.

A glint of sunlight warned him that a foe was behind him. He turned and parried with his rapier as another girl with dark skin hacked at him with a scimitar. Percy forced himself to breathe calmly as he tried to recall his training. He went into a riposte, trying to skewer the girl, but she expected this and went to his side. She managed to slice a shallow wound on his right leg, catching him unawares, before bounding out of his reach.

They exchanged blows, and Percy realized that though the girl was strong, he would soon overpower her. The problem was that the wound on his leg began to exhaust him and served as a handicap. Unable to move like he usually could, he accumulated more cuts, nothing too deep, but still annoying.

Then Percy realized with horror what she was doing. She was trying to cut him until he bled to death. It didn't matter how deep the cuts were, so long as there were many, he would soon be unable to move. In a desperate twist of his wrist, he tried to disarm her and was shocked when it worked. Her sword flew out of her hand and embedded itself in a plank some distance behind her.

"You're done!" Percy growled, lunging forward.

At that second, a cannon round hit the ship with terrific force. Percy, unaccustomed to maritime warfare, stumbled and fell off balance missing the girl entirely. The other girl seized the chance to run and grab her sword. Percy was afraid she'd come after him again, but sighed in relief when he saw her run away.

All around him, men were fighting young girls. The girls no longer held the element of surprise, and they now faced multiple opponents. However, the soldiers were slowly being pushed back. The young girls were simply better, faster swordsmen. Percy realized his only hope was to hide and tend to his wounds. He'd be no help if he sought to fight in his current condition.

He scampered back down the stairs and went to his quarters. Scrounging for bandages, he began to patch himself up. It took him about twenty minutes to tend to all his wounds. He was about to get back onto the deck when the door leading down to the living quarters blew open. Percy was astonished to see the captain fighting three girls at once as he sped down the stairs to find less space, so that he could fight them individually.

He quickly beat two of them in a stunning display of military prowess. With the third, he fought for a while before disarming her in a clever move. The captain made to hack her down when a bronze knife sailed through the air and embedded itself in his throat.

Percy gasped, and he heard the sound of leather boots stepping down the stairs. A glint of golden blond hair shone when the sunlight filtered down into the dark quarters. Percy froze as a girl walked into view. Her gray eyes were cold and calculating, eerily like storm clouds gathering on the horizon. Her hair fell in princess curls hidden beneath a large floppy hat, and she looked like she belonged to the aristocracy. She carried herself with grace, and she pulled her dagger out of the captain's throat with practiced ease, cleaning it on the man's navy uniform.

"Scout the rest of the ship. See if they have anything useful to say or anything valuable to give. Leave no survivors," she said, her voice clear and calm.

Percy took a step back, trying to distance himself from this girl that wore death like a perfume. The creaking floorboards gave him away, and the girl's eyes flew to his direction. Her gaze narrowed, and Percy felt his heart thunder in his chest.

"I'll take care of this one," she said, stepping forward with her dagger in hand.

Percy knew that there would be no escape so with a vicious shout, he charged her, his rapier in hand. He made to slash at her, but she effortlessly blocked him with the flat of her dagger. He employed every tactic in his arsenal in addition to several impromptu attacks that he was sure would reach her, but a sense of dread welled up inside him as she effortlessly blocked every maneuver. Finally, she sighed as if she was done with the fight and then faster than the eye could see, she disarmed him.

He swallowed as the dagger touched his throat. "Who are you, Englishman?" she asked, her accent difficult to place.

"My name is Perseus Jackson, son of Lord Jackson, earl of Shaftesbury," he growled, determined to die with dignity.

The girl's eyes flashed with an alien emotion before she removed her dagger from his throat. Her lips curled upwards, but to Percy the gesture looked forced. "We have an aristocrat amongst us, ladies!" she called out.

Behind her, the other girls cried out in surprise. The blonde leaned towards him and said, "Now, what's a _gentleman_ like yourself doing this far out in the Caribbean?"

Percy pursed his lips, adamantly silent. The blonde girl shrugged and motioned behind her. "I think we'll capture this one. He might fetch a handsome ransom if we can get in touch with the British," she said.

"I won't come quietly!" Percy shouted.

The blonde's eyes turned cold in an instant. "You will," she whispered, her voice matter-of-fact. "You see, you're my prisoner now, and there's nothing you can do about that. You can either make this easy for yourself, or you can make it difficult. Either way, you'll still be my prisoner. The only thing that changes is how unhappy you make yourself."

"I'm already unhappy," Percy murmured, staring her down.

She looked at him for a second more before she shrugged. "Pack him up!" she hollered, and the huge girl with ruddy brown hair he had seen before came forward.

"Coward, hiding down here," she grumbled, easily picking him up and tossing him over her shoulder as if he weighed no more than a sack of potatoes.

The blonde put a hand on the other girl's shoulder. "Easy, Clarisse. Be careful with the _princess_. He's not used to being uncomfortable," she teased.

Percy felt his jaw clench as the other girl, Clarisse, guffawed. He understood that all the other girls respected the blonde and obeyed her without question. There was something about the blonde that made her different from the rest of the girls. What that was, he did not know. Struggling against Clarisse's iron-clad grip, Percy tried to shake free, but found the effort impossible. Instead, he chose to bite her shoulder. Clarisse dropped him as she cried out in pain. He decided he would make a run for it, but then the blonde girl turned to him with a deadly expression. The last thing he saw was a flash of bronze as the pommel of her dagger crashed into his skull and knocked him unconscious.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hello everyone! I am still alive. I know you're probably upset that I started a new story, and I am sorry. I'm just going to be honest and say that I'm going to write to have fun again because writing felt like a chore for so long, and I don't like that. I'll update my other stories as soon as I can. In the meantime enjoy Annabeth being a badass pirate captain with an all female crew. Follow, Favorite, and Review!**

**PS: Also check out "A Beautiful Somewhere" by suspicious eggplant! It's a kool new story, and I enjoyed it. **


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

As he awoke, Percy felt his vision flicker and sway before him. His hands were bound by thick, rough rope. The dank smell of rotting wood entered his nose — smushed against the floorboards — and Percy realized that he was in a hold of some sort. Currently, it was functioning as a de facto prison cell.

With a grunt of exertion, he managed to right himself in order to take inventory of his surroundings. There were boxes of cargo with him in the small room that he assumed held victuals and drink to help feed the crew. He had no idea how long he had spent there thus far. All he knew was that he had been captured by a troop of female pirates, that they were holding him for ransom, and that his head hurt something fierce.

For a long while, he sat there trying to focus to block out the pain he was feeling. His stomach felt unsettled, but he didn't want to vomit all over his "cell" while he was still forced to sit there. Hunger began to gnaw away at him like a parasite trying to eat itself out of his stomach. Fear came next. He began to suspect that they had been lying when they said that they would hold him for ransom.

Finally, the door opened, and the dark skinned girl that he had fought entered. Her expression seemed frail, as if she was forcing herself to look intimidating. Percy began to formulate a plan of some sort. He forced himself to fall forward as if overcome by exertion. As he expected the girl gave a shrill cry before running forward to help him up.

She sat him up, and he made a show of looking as pathetic as he possibly could, trying to appeal to her better nature. "Please, I need food and water," he gasped.

The girl bit her lip and observed him silently. For a few seconds, he started to worry that she would deny him, but then she nodded slowly. "Okay," she said. "I'll get you something to eat and maybe something to drink."

"Thank you," he said, trying to sound as earnest as he possibly could. If he could exploit the girl's merciful nature, maybe he'd manage to earn himself a ticket off this godforsaken ship.

It only a took a few minutes for her to come back. She was carrying a plate with two slices of bread, a cup of water, and a small knife and fork in case he felt so inclined to use cutlery.. There was a part of Percy, the part that was used to lavish dining parties on the English countryside with strawberry cordial, currant scones, and meat pies, that wanted to wrinkle its nose in disgust. However, the part of Percy that was ravenous enough to eat a rat if it scattered in front of him saw the meal as a feast from heaven.

He wolfed down the bread greedily and drank the water quickly. The dark skinned girl observed him passively. He wasn't sure whether she was judging him or not, but at this point he supposed that it didn't really matter. Right now all that mattered was that he was hungry and that he had food in front of him.

"I'm Percy by the way," he said, wiping the crumbs off his hands.

The girl looked at him with furrowed brows, unsure of what to say. "H-Hazel," she said, and Percy gave her a broad smile.

"Nice to meet you. Now, do you know where I am?" he asked. He decided he might as well act polite to spare himself some unnecessary discomfort. Like it or not, the blonde was right - he was a prisoner and there wasn't much he could do about it.

The girl squirmed in place. "I'm not allowed to say anything. The captain will see you soon herself. She will tell you whatever you want to know," she said.

"Ah, I see," he said, frowning slightly.

Hazel stood up and looked down at him. "I'm going to need your plate," she said. "I wasn't even supposed to give you anything."

"Yeah, I understand," Percy said, standing up.

He walked towards her, but then suddenly the plate slipped from his hands. It shattered against the floor of the ship, and Hazel hissed as she jumped to avoid the shards. Percy crouched down to help her pick up the shards, apologizing profusely.

"I am so sorry," he said.

"It's fine. Just let me clean this all up," she said, helping him gather the shards. They finished rather quickly, and Hazel gathered the utensils, the cup, and the shards in a small bag she had brought with her.

"I'll come down later and give you food when I can," she said over her shoulder as she closed the door shut behind her.

Percy waited until she was gone before he allowed himself to smile. With his left hand, he pulled out a long, sharp shard from the sleeve of his shirt. Now he had a weapon.

~oOo~

The blonde was furious. Or at least that's how Percy thought she felt given that she had broken his nose and given him a black eye. His escape plan hadn't really gone all that well. He'd waited for Hazel to come back down with food before surprising her with the shard pressed to her throat. He'd managed to get onto the deck with her as his hostage, demanding he be given a dingy so that he could escape.

That was right about the time when the blonde girl had emerged from her quarters and seen him pressing a sharp ceramic shard against the neck of one of her crew. Percy hadn't noticed her, so it was to be expected that when a golden bronze dagger came flying through the air and impaled his hand with eerie precision, he had dropped the dagger and quickly surrendered to the angry crew.

He'd been thrown back into his makeshift dungeon for a few minutes before the blonde had entered alone. She punched him hard in the nose, breaking it, and then she punched him in the eye for good measure.

"That's twice now that you've hurt one of the members of my crew," she said calmly, studying him with a cold, calculating expression.

Her voice was smooth and silken, but strange and foreign to Percy. "I did what I had to in order to escape," he said, shrugging nonchalantly.

His face was a whirlwind of pain that he couldn't properly feel. If he was being honest, Percy would have said that he was scared shitless by this cold blonde sitting in front of him, but if there was one thing he was good at, it was keeping a poker face and acting braver than he felt.

"If you were anyone else, I'd have killed you myself," she said. "But you're an aristocrat, so I cannot. Funny how privilege works even when you're captive."

Percy laughed. "I didn't choose which family I was born into. I just was, and I went with it, like we all do."

The girl snorted. "Like you'd pick any other life than the one that you have now. You've never known suffering. You'd just cling to the comfort you've always known."

"Frankly, I'd choose a life that didn't have me being your captive at any point in time, so I guess there's that," Percy quipped.

Her lips curled downwards into a frown. "You have a smart mouth, don't you, _princess_," she hissed.

"Well, if I'm a princess, I'd hope that you wouldn't be so uncivilized as to hit a lady," Percy said.

"Those are bold words coming from the boy that killed some of my crew when we were storming your ship," she said, crouching down.

Without warning, the girl hit him across the face again. Percy felt his vision flicker slightly, and his cheek throbbed something fierce. "That's for Jane, the girl you shot in the back like a coward" the girl said.

Another hit. "That's for biting Clarisse."

Another hit. "That's for holding Hazel hostage."

Another hit. "That's just because I felt like it."

Percy's entire face screamed in pain, but he managed to smirk at her. "Ow," he said. "That wasn't very nice of you."

"I'm not a very nice person, I'm afraid," the girl said, standing up. Her knuckles were slightly bruised from punching Percy in the face, something that genuinely made him smile.

"That looks like it hurts. Want me to kiss it for you?" he asked, winking imperiously for added effect.

The girl shot him a look of unadulterated disgust as she made for the door. "You're not to be given food for the next two days. You'll get some water tomorrow, but I'll make sure its not enough to do much to relieve your thirst. We'll see if you aristocrats starve like the rest of us," she sneered.

"Can I at least know the name of my sadistic captor?" Percy asked.

The girl simply laughed as she passed through the door and shut it behind her, leaving Percy alone in the dark.

~oOo~

The next two days were agony for Percy. Living in a cocoon of comfort in England had not prepared him for the slow burning anguish of hunger. It gnawed at him, and for the first time, Percy was able to sympathize with the gaunt commoners he sometimes saw from his carriage when he went about the streets of London. He didn't understand how anyone could stand the pain of not being able to eat.

At this point, Percy was happy to eat a rat if one scattered across his make-shift prison. Alas, there were no rats. There was only the rocky, choppy motions of the sea against the ship, and it made him feel sick.

He swore that he'd see that blonde girl burn for this - her, her crew, and the damned ship. He'd burn them all. It was this hatred that kept him from dwelling too much on how hungry it was. Finally, after the two days were up, the blonde herself came into the room with a loaf of moldy bread.

She tossed it to him. "Eat," she commanded, sitting down beside him.

Percy pounced on the loaf of bread and began to devour it like a man possessed. In a sense, he supposed he was possessed. As soon as he was done eating this bread, he would beat the living daylights out of the sadistic blonde, hold her captive, and get her crew to get him a life boat that he could escape with.

As soon as he was done, he pounced towards, but the girl quickly bested him. Percy found his face pressed against the floor as the blonde sat on top of him, yanking his arm painfully behind his back. He gritted his teeth, determined not the show that he was in pain. Attempting to buck her off, he popped his back, but her knees pressed him down and restricted his mobility.

"You're going to have to stop doing that," she whispered, leaning into his ear.

Percy jerked his head back, hoping to catch her jaw, but she backed away and laughed. He had truly never hated anyone quite as much as he hated that blonde in that moment. The most humiliating thing was that she bested him over and over again. Even at his best, she would be able to dominate him in a fight. Percy wasn't used to losing fights, and he certainly wasn't used to losing to a _girl_ of all things.

No, she wasn't a girl. She was a monster. That was it, Percy thought. He wasn't being beaten by a girl — that was a ridiculous notion. She was just a demon possessed with bloodlust. After all, he'd managed to beat Hazel in two fights, so it had to be just her, he surmised.

"I hate you," he spat.

"Well, I'm not exactly enjoying having you aboard my ship either," the blonde said.

There was a pause, and Percy tried to thing of ways to escape his current predicament, but he couldn't figure anything out. "If I let you go, will you try to attack me again?" she asked.

Percy swallowed, trying not to sound as angry as he felt. "Fine," he said.

"Fine what?"

"Fine, I won't attack you again," he said, his voice heavy with defeat.

The girl eased up the pressure and slid off his back, and Percy slinked away, massaging his arm and shoulder. He realized that she could've dislocated it if she wanted to and that made him even angrier. Percy hated being at the mercy of someone else, but more than that, he hated when he was so outclassed that someone went easy on him. It was embarrassing.

"I'm Annabeth," the girl said, looking at him like a navigator might look at a map.

"That's an awfully pretty name for such a nasty girl," Percy muttered, and Annabeth crossed her eyes even as a gentle pink flush crept onto her cheeks.

"You're way too snarky for a prisoner," Annabeth said. "But then again I'm sure you're just trying to cover your bruised ego."

"My bruised ego?" Percy asked with an upturned eyebrow.

Annabeth smiled sickly sweet. "You know, being taken prisoner by girls and all. Most men would have the decency to feel a little embarrassed-"

Percy snorted. "You're not a girl — you're some sort of demon spawn."

A wicked glint crept into Annabeth's eyes. "Do you want to see under my trousers whether or not I'm a real girl or not?" she challenged.

A rush of blood reddened Percy's cheeks, and his skin felt hot and prickly. "That's not proper for a woman to say-" he stuttered.

Annabeth scoffed. "Do I look like a proper girl to you, _princess_?"

Percy pushed his lips to one side. "No, you're quite right - proper girls are actually nice to look at."

A frosty smile slid across Annabeth's lips. "I think we just might have forgotten to bring you bread for two more days," she said.

Even though he wanted to cry at the thought of going hungry again, he still managed a genuine smile. He'd gotten under her skin, and that was cause enough for celebration. "Have I upset you, Annabeth?" he teased.

"Most grievously, my lord. I expected a boy of your stature to have learned proper manners, but it appears you're just a barbaric brute," she quipped.

"Oh, do stop, you're making me blush with all your compliments."

Annabeth rolled her eyes and then a cry came from the top of the deck. A girl came running down into the hold with a frenzied expression. "There's a Spanish ship a few knots from our position. Should we engage them?" she asked.

"How big is the ship?" Annabeth asked, her voice sharper now than before.

"It's pretty big — larger than the English Man-of-War we attacked a few days ago," she explained.

"Blast," Annabeth swore under her breath. "Do you think they've spotted us yet?"

The girl nodded frantically. "They're actually turning and gaining on us," she said.

"Well, it looks like we don't have much of a choice," Annabeth said. "We're going to have to meet them head on. A Man-of-War isn't easy to outrun, and I'm willing to bet that they're cannons have much longer range than ours do, so going in close is our best option."

The other girl nodded. "Belle, you stay down here and watch our prisoner while I go marshal the crew and see what we can do," she said.

"Wait, no!" Percy said.

Annabeth and the girl stared at him. "If that's a ship bigger than my Man-of-War, then I'd reckon that they'd have a crew much bigger than ours. You're not going to be able to fight off a Spanish armada ship with as few fighters as you've got. You're going to need everyone to help you out — including me," he said.

"We took out your ship with about half our forces. I don't think it's going to be that difficult to get rid of the Spaniards," Belle said, frowning.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "It's obviously just a trick to get us to give him a weapon. Ignore him Belle — I'm heading upstairs. No matter what, don't listen to what he says," she said, running up the stairs.

Percy glared at Annabeth's retreating form. Being a pirate's captive was one thing — at the very least he could get ransomed back to the British — but the Spaniards had no use for him. In fact, they'd probably relish in killing him considering that he was an earl and whatnot. He didn't have as much faith in Annabeth and her crew as she did.

It only took minutes for the fighting to begin, and Percy jolted as he realized that the Spaniards were boarding their ship instead of the other way around. Annabeth and her crew was going to be put on the defensive, and he was in harm's way. If one of the Spaniards came down here by accident, he was as good as dead. He wasn't too sure that Belle would be able to stave them off if they came down in numbers.

"Hey, cut me loose," Percy hissed.

Belle was quiet, resolutely ignoring him. Percy quickly realized that she was made of much sterner stuff than Hazel was.

There were cries coming from the deck, and the unmistakable sound of steel on steel echoed down to the stairs. Belle started to shift uneasily in her spot, holding the pommel of her cutlass with a tight grip. Percy didn't have the audacity to attack her and somehow escape. To do so, he'd have to somehow beat an armed, highly skillful girl with nothing but his bare hands. Then he'd be out of the frying pan and into the fire seeing as how both the Spaniards and the Pirates would love to see him dead, and there was not a chance in hell that he'd make it out alive fighting them at the same time.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs made Belle draw her cutlass. There were four Spaniards that happened upon the hold, and they quickly spotted Belle. The girl's expression turned fierce, and she dashed forward, killing one man before anyone knew she'd moved. The other three quickly sprung into action, but Belle easily killed another as he retreated. The last two began to press her, stabbing with thin rapiers. Blocking stabs was very difficult, especially with a curved blade like a cutlass.

"Belle! Toss me a dagger, or they'll kill you!" Percy shouted. If Belle were to die, the Spaniards would easily cut him down.

She glanced quickly at him and frowned before facing her opponents once more. Percy wanted to scream. Where were the other girls from the crew? How had these four managed to somehow get down here by themselves?

One of the Spaniards managed to pierce her side with his sword. The shock of being pierced made her stop for a second and that was enough for the other to stab her through the stomach. As Belle sank to her feet, she turned and saw Percy. His heart was thundering in his chest. He was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to die.

Then Belle smiled wryly and tossed her cutlass back towards him before collapsing. Percy quickly stood and brandished the cutlass. He advanced and fought the Spaniard like a man possessed. His ferocity was enough to overpower them, and he managed to slay one opponent before handling the other.

Percy didn't fight the same way the Pirates fought — his strokes were clean and elegant, highly technical and accurate. He fought like a boy that had been brought up and instructed by military officials that knew what they were doing. Against opponents like pirates, the orthodoxy was sometimes a disadvantage, but against another classically trained opponent like a member of the Spanish armada, Percy knew he had the upper hand.

It took a little under a minute for Percy to kill the Spaniard. After he fell, Percy walked over to Belle. She was still alive, but only barely. There was too much blood pouring out from her stomach for there to be any hope of saving her.

"You idiot," Percy muttered, cradling her in his arms.

Belle managed a small smile before coughing up blood. "If you betray Annabeth and my sisters, I'm going to haunt you from the grave, Englishman."

"If you'd given me a weapon like I'd asked, you could've haunted me just fine alive," he said.

She laughed, but the blood made her throat gurgle. Her eyes glazed over, but a ghost of a smile was still on her lips as her head fell limply. Percy put her body down, ignoring the fact that she'd covered his clothing in blood. Even though he'd only known Belle for a little while, and she was his warden, he could appreciate a loyal soldier. Maybe under different circumstances, they could've been friends.

The cries from the deck stirred Percy from his musings. With the cutlass in hand, he ran up to the deck. He saw Spaniards everywhere, fighting the crew with uneven odds. Percy's eyes searched for Annabeth, but he couldn't find her. He ran across the deck, stabbing at Spaniards whenever he could to make the odds more even.

If it weren't for their superior numbers, the Spaniards would've been completely outclassed. Seeing all of the crew fighting for the first time was an amazing sight. They danced like sprites, leaving death and carnage in their wake, but even they were not invincible. More often than he expected, he'd step over the corpse of a teenaged girl.

A cry near the helm of the ship made Percy look over. He found Annabeth fighting five men by herself with her bronze dagger in hand, but there were endless others advancing upon her from every direction. Even as prolific a swordsman as she was, Annabeth would inevitably get overwhelmed.

Percy stood still for a moment. He could let her die. If she was dead, he'd be able to escape much more easily. He turned his back, ready to look for a dinghy that he could escape in. But when he heard Annabeth cry out, he found himself turning around.

She'd been pierced deeply in the leg, and she was barely standing upright. Without her strange footwork, she'd be a sitting target. There was a strange emotion that welled up inside Percy, and he found himself suddenly walking towards the helm without any conscious thought or logic. With his cutlass, he hacked into the men surrounding Annabeth, making quick work of them. He knew how Spaniards fought — he'd trained his whole life to learn how to beat them, and he was not a shabby swordsman.

It took a little while, but both Annabeth and Percy managed to subdue the Spanish onslaught. There was a ring of corpses surrounding the two of them, and their backs were pressed against each other. They hadn't killed everyone attacking them, but the remaining Spaniards began to retreat.

"_Retirarse_!" a call arose.

Immediately the Spaniards began to retreat from their fights. Percy saw the the Man-of-War was docked right beside them. There were ropes hanging from the ship that the Spaniards used to climb back up. A couple of the girls managed to hit a few of the retreating men with throwing knives, but Annabeth called out to them.

"Let them be! We need to regroup! Gather the wounded and let Gwen and Kiera tend to them. The rest of you focus on getting our ship away from theirs. I don't want us to rest until we get out of canon range. We can ease up when we're a few leagues away," Annabeth commanded.

The crew sprung into action like one efficient unit. Percy marveled at the disciple and unquestionable authority Annabeth held over the rest of them. She captained her crew with control he'd never seen even among the English admiralty.

As Annabeth began to walk towards the center of the deck, Percy noticed one of the fallen Spaniards stirring. The man grasped at his sword, and it took Percy an instant to recognize what he was about to do: attack Annabeth. Without warning, Percy hurled his cutlass, and it pierced the man's throat. With a bloody gurgle, he dropped his weapon and collapsed lifeless to the ground.

Annabeth turned and take in the situation. Her eyes widened at him when she realized what he'd done, but then they narrowed with suspicion in an instant. It looked like she was going to come over and interrogate him when a girl came over and took her away to help see the wounded.

Percy sighed and sat down on one of the stairs. He didn't know what had happened, or what was going to happen next. In some ways, he'd sealed his own doom trying to help the captain that was imprisoning him when he could have left her to die and sought escape. He wondered why he hadn't, and then he remembered the strange emotion he'd experienced. It unsettled him, and he found himself frowning. Whether they'd imprison him, torture him, or something else, Percy wondered just what was to come from all of this, a sense of dread welling up in his stomach as he saw the endless Atlantic Sea.

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><p><strong>AN: Hey a quick update! This hasn't happened in a long while! All jokes aside, I'm happy to finish another chapter. I actually have two huge one shots coming in the near future, so be on the lookout for that. They are turning out to be really good. One of them is over 8000 words already, and I'm only two thirds done. But to focus on the fic at hand, I liked the banter between Percy and Annabeth. There's some rushing going on, but I think this kind of story needs a faster plot. There won't be as many fight scenes in the future for better or for worse because I hate writing them - they feel really corny. I'm still unsure what kind of message I'm going for in this story, but I think it's going to have a big focus on classism and gender politics, which aren't my favorite topics, but oh well. If you liked this chapter, please: Follow, Favorite, and Review. **

**PS: I'm kinda bummed with the welcome my stories are getting nowadays since I've been out of action for a while, but it's kind of discouraging me from writing more for the site, so if you enjoyed this please let me know. It actually takes a really long time to plot out the story and write it and everything, so I think it's only fair to review. Phew, I hate giving those kinds of spiels since reviews don't matter a ton, but I felt like it needed to be said anyways. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but I'll probably make fun of you if you send flames, so yah. Anyhow, see you all soon! I will proof this later when I'm not busy!**


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